


A Neighborhood Pest

by serotoninDeficient



Category: Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: I wrote this for my creative writing class, and i decided to share it with y'all, it is a lovely day in an idyllic village and you are a horrible goose, maybe i can give you some laughs in this trying time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotoninDeficient/pseuds/serotoninDeficient
Summary: It is a lovely day in an idyllic village. And then there's you: a horrible goose.A bit from the perspective of the groundskeeper in Untitled Goose Game.
Kudos: 35





	A Neighborhood Pest

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my Creative Writing class and decided I might as well share it with the rest of you. It's pretty much unedited, so please be nice to me.

Every morning for the past seventeen years, Augustus Greene had gotten up with the sun, cooked eggs for breakfast, and headed out to tend his garden. He never minded that his hands were gnarled and calloused from the years of labor. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work, and he liked the peace. Vegetables didn’t talk back, after all.

At least, he  _ had _ liked the peace. Before that horrible thing came to town.

Now, Augustus had seen some things in his day, but nothing like this. It wasn’t just that the bird was temperamental, as he knew geese tended to be. This one was downright  _ malicious. _

Every few weeks, it would appear on the other side of the low brick wall and turn on the sprinklers. How it knew to do that, he had no idea, but it did it all the same. Then, when he ran out to shut it off before the turnips got overwatered, it would run past him into the garden, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it out again. He’d tried everything: closing the gate behind him, blocking the hole in the hedge with an old wooden crate. Nothing could keep that goose out, and it seemed intent on wreaking havoc.

The goose never stopped at turning on the sprinklers and breaking into the garden, no, sir. It stole his keys. It plucked up all his carrots and his best tulip bud. It uprooted his pumpkins and dragged his rake into the lake. It stole his pumpkins and his jam, his radio and the sandwich he made for lunch every day. Lord only knows what it did with them. Why, if he managed to find that goose’s lair, he’d probably find all sorts of things it had stolen from him, and from people all over town!

For the goose didn’t just terrorize Augustus Greene. After it finished in his garden -- it always honked right when he was about to strike with his mallet, and he would  _ swear _ it was trying to startle him into hammering his thumb -- it moved on to the High Street, where it chased poor Thomas Kane around, stealing his favorite toy airplane, and trapping the shopkeeper in her garage. It broke into the TV shop and messed up all of Mrs. Reese’s electrical wiring. It went into the back gardens of Mr. Jenkins -- of whom Augustus was no big fan, as a rival in the annual flower show -- and tricked sweet Miss Hopper into pruning Mr. Jenkins’ prized rose. It ran past Big Mike into Augustus’ favorite pub, and it stole Old Man McGregor’s harmonica. Why, it had even taken the toy boat that Rita kept in the sink for when her daughter was around!

But that wasn’t the worst of it, oh, no. No one knew how it kept managing it, but just as soon as Scott down at the old miniature village managed to get the bell tower replaced, the goose would get in, knock the tower down, and steal the bell. It didn’t matter how they reinforced the tower, or how many times they tried to chase it out. It just kept coming back, again and again, ruining their main tourist attraction for its own heartless fun.

Augustus sat back on his heels in front of the flower bed and frowned. Why, if his ears didn’t deceive him, that was a distant  _ honk _ on the breeze. He sighed, getting to his feet, and checked that the hole in the hedge was blocked, readying himself for another day’s battle.


End file.
